The Land of the Dead
by The Reader of Books
Summary: Lyra is dead and feeling alone. Where's Will?


Lyra Silvertongue was quiet as she walked into the town, following her death as he stayed a few feet in front of her, knowing she didn't want to talk. She had seen the town before when she had been alive. She'd walked through it with three of her friends, one of them being the love of her life, Will Parry. She had been twelve, going on thirteen. Now she was sixty, she was dead and her dear Pan had disappeared from her side, now part of every atom on the earth. If he were here, she knew he would have pressed his face into her breast, wrapped in her arms. But he wasn't, and it wasn't helpful to wish it either. It only made her miss him more. She didn't say it, but she felt like she'd abandoned him again.

Long ago she'd felt she had to leave Pan on the dirty lifeless shore so she could find Roger and make amends with him because she felt she had killed if. Will had been with her then, eager to talk to his own dead father who he had never known. That was when Kirjava had been torn from Will's heart, becoming something real and physical.

But now Lyra was alone, her footsteps unheard in the silent realm, and she had no idea where Will was. She didn't know if Will had died already or was still biding his time until the day came. Perhaps she was going to be waiting for years. But if that meant seeing Will again, she would wait until the end of time if she had to.

Lyra's eyes lowered to look at the waste heaped ground as she remembered the last few months. She had died from a plague that had been going around. Those last days had been painful and dark. She hadn't been allowed to see the sun's warm rays. Only her nurse could see her and dab the cold sweat away. It was all the nurse could do. There was no cure. The aletheiometer had not been able to tell of one.

Pan had done his best to keep her well, taking on most of the fight, needing her to carry him. But the sickness had over powered him and spread to her. And now she was walking through the cursed town, people who had not yet died watching her with their cold, lifeless eyes.

She reached the docks and her death smiled before fading away. He'd done his job. Perhaps he'd just been born unto another little child, to wait until that child needed to come. Lyra watched the grey sea and wrapped her frail arms around herself since there was no Pan to hold and waited for the boat she knew would take her to the Land of the Dead. It came almost instantly, the rotting boatman saying nothing. She climbed in without a word to him and he began to paddle away from the shore. This time on the trip, there was no heart wrenching pain. There was no Pan to abandon. She was really alone this time.

Lyra didn't feel the passage of time as she had on that last trip. The next thing she knew the boat had arrived at the wharf and she was standing on the rotten planks, looking at the mountain she'd known long ago she would once again see.

The harpies saw her arrive and Lyra expected them to challenge her. But they let her walk along quietly. She entered the mountain and sat against one of the walls facing the doorway, watching and waiting.

-----------------------------------------------

Lyra never noticed the twenty years pass. She watched the doorway endlessly, never blinking, never sleeping. Many people came through the doorway, all of them lead by a harpy to lead them to the opening created by Will long ago. Lyra glanced at them long enough to register it wasn't Will, then sank back into her semi-conscience state.

Lyra's consciousness was stirred for no reason when she heard a heavy footfall on the wharf outside. Unlike the others, there was no challenge from the harpies towards the person. Lyra's interest grew.

She looked up at the figure who entered the doorway and studied his face. She was about to turn her head away when she caught sight of his left hand. Two of the fingers were missing. She looked at him again and looked into his face. She stood up slowly, twenty years of sitting never protesting.

The man was looking back at her as well, a suspicious, curious look in his eyes. Then both realized who the other was at the same moment.

Will walked up to Lyra and embraced her as if they let go, they would be parted forever. Finally they let go and as Lyra looked into Will's eyes. She saw, only for a second, the Will she met all those years ago. The twelve-year-old Will with that stubborn frown and stuck out chin, the Will she would always remember. He looked at her and saw the fierce little girl he'd met in that other world, who he had punched so hard to raise a bruise on her cheek with the wild cat beside her. And they both saw themselves in the other, for the last time.

Together they walked through the Land of the Dead, talking quietly about what had happened to themselves since the moment they parted, Lyra about how she'd had to relearn how to read the alethiometer, Will about how he'd been thrown into juvenile prison for a long time. Both learned with pleasure that the other had never married.

Past the Abyss they walked, ignoring the darkness beckoning to them, and refusing to remember how Lyra had almost fallen into the yawning darkness. Finally they came to the window Will had cut open so long ago and stepped into that world. They felt a tug in their hearts to join the sky but held on a moment long in each other's arms, part of them wanting to stay like this forever, but part of them wanting to be everything and to be each other. Lyra stalled the moment they both knew was coming

'Roger was the first to leave the Land, remember Will?'

'Yeah… yeah, I remember. He was so happy.'

He looked down at her and she looked up at him, and for a moment they were their thirteen-year-old selves. They leaned in towards each other. They're lips met and they disappeared into the night sky together to join every one they lost in their lifetimes. And they rejoined Pan and Kirjava, who had been patiently waiting for them.

_At last I'm with Will,_ was Lyra last thought, _and that's all that matters to me now._


End file.
